


When in Rome

by Charles_Rockafellor



Series: Tell me more about this Earth-thing [3]
Category: Dr Who inspired, space orcs
Genre: Catgirls, Cthulhu Mythos, Double Entendre, Dr Who themes, Effect and Cause, Fan Service, Farce, Food Porn, Furry, HFY, Harem, Holographic Palimpsest existence, Mystery, Nekomusume - Freeform, Omega Point (Teilhard de Chardin), Other, References to Lovecraft, Self-negating prophecy, Slice of Life, Stabby the Space Roomba, Suspense, Tautology, Temporal Paradox, World of Tiers (Philip José Farmer | series 1965-1991) elements, aliens are weird, flirtation, girl talk, humanity fuck yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-25
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-08 22:21:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27193691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Charles_Rockafellor/pseuds/Charles_Rockafellor
Summary: Join Avery D'Arc, Space Orc, as he wrestles with the mysteries of the universe, Cat-girls with no conception of personal space, and the slings and arrows of outrageous vacation destinations.
Series: Tell me more about this Earth-thing [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975186
Comments: 6
Kudos: 7
Collections: Space Opera





	1. Cauchy

**Author's Note:**

> You might have landed here by accident, and hence be wondering about the sharp change in character POV. If you _began_ with “[Heart of the GNACHO](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103411)”, then you were reading a story that's in two different series at once: that story begins the “ **[Out of time](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1995391)** ” series (somewhat of a crack-fic, inspired by Dr. Who and Deadpool), but is also the second story of the “ **[Tell me more about this Earth-thing](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1975186)** ” series (a Space Orcs romance of sorts, which started with “[The Space Orcs are coming, hooray, hooray!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27063373/chapters/66076930)”).
> 
> If you were looking for the crack-fic, then you want “[The Screwed-up Letter](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27329722)”. After the GNACHO fork, the story that you're in right now (“When in Rome”), is concurrent with “The Screwed-up Letter” in the reading order, but along a parallel track: it's in the aforementioned Space Orcs romance series. If you enjoy “Cauchy” below (this first chapter of “When in Rome”), and wish to know a little more about Cauchy's strange doings, then you might wish to look into that crack-fic -- if not, then fear not: the crack-fic is only tangential to the Space Orcs romance and adventures.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Space Orcs might be the most rawly impressive species in the known galaxies, but it turns out that they're not the most confounding when Billie and Avery set out to investigate the mysterious appearance of a vast artificial complex (just one of many). Spanning two light years, its main mass is empty and seems to have no effect on spacetime around it.
> 
> Its otherwise bare surface isn't quite entirely bare though, with a ten million mile building standing out as a beacon-like calling card for all and sundry. As if this weren't enough, the interior proves increasingly more bizarre, making the exterior seem merely a little outsized by contrast. At the heart of the matter is a being more outlandish than they'd ever expected, and all because of what will never happen, ensuring that what wasn't remains so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This part (“When in Rome”) of the “Tell me more about this Earth-thing” Space Orcs series has four chapters written so far. Whether it will remain there or expand some before moving on to the next part in the series is an open question at the moment, but I hope to find out soon. 🙂  
>  As well, this chapter deals with an archailect Engram and another being. One can infer that they're both of uncertain but rather advanced level, and with fair amounts of power and resources at their disposal; for a related study of scaling characters' relative power levels in writing and games, please see “[Superheroes: Powers and Principalities](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29371374)”.
> 
> **N.B.:** This chapter's footnote section is crammed, so I lack sufficient characters to even link back out to the main text, much less space for anchors in from the text, so you'll have to scroll back and forth or wait 'til you get to the bottom. Sorry about that! 😔
> 
> **_INFO REQUEST_** : I found out recently that my stories' word flow is a bit choppy when read on phones (TL;DR: I'm on a computer, so I had no idea). I've modified _only this chapter_ as a testbed. Would you be willing to tell me if it seems to have improved the flow at all vs. previous/following chapters? (This note, like the rest of this chapter, uses single spaces between sentences. For an immediate contrast, scroll up and compare it to the first set of notes [the ones for the overall story], which used my normal double-spacing between sentences; for a better idea of the overall flow, just compare this chapter with the next one.) Thanks!
> 
> ▐► **For notes on how to change fonts and font colors and so forth, please see** [Fonts, and colors, and work skins, oh my!](https://archiveofourown.org/works/28934610)
> 
>   
> 

“Lands' End, Point Omega, call it what you will, it reeks of death,” the Engram intoned.

Ryo-ohki twitched in her sleep, dreaming of an alien planet made of pure carrot, fresh greens sprouting all over the surface, and cool springs and brooks abounding and redolent with sweet, carrot-juicy goodness.

“Silent halls of marble, but impenetrable to all scanners, and resistant to all attempts to so much as scratch them for samples,” it went on, pausing as if to ensure that the significance sank in.

“So, y'all are talkin' a ghost town here?” Avery clarified.

The Engram paused further, considering the Deathworlder's question.

“Ghosts?” it asked, unable to come up with any better reply.

For all that the Deathworlder's language inexplicably matched Audible Galactic Common, there were inevitably some disjoints. Billie had learned that very quickly, and it wasn't just food and local planetary lifeforms and astrography, nor yet their curious deafness to their own minor regional variations (they called them languages, and claimed not to understand one another). Deathworlders had words for weather, pursuits of pleasure, so many methods of warfare… things that rarely had more than the merest tangential similarity to anything cultured and civilized, and this persisted in every “language” on the planet!

“Non-physical continuations of once-living physical beings,” Billie stepped in.

“Of course,” the Engram nodded, “a common enough metamorphic stage for–”

“They dead,” Avery interrupted.

“Then I'm afraid that I don't understand.”

Billie spent the next hour trying to explain primitive Deathworlder superstitions before the Engram gave up, more confused than ever.

“So, the message finally self-destructed?”

“That's not how they work,” ze replied, dodging nimbly around him and fending off his hands as ze made zer way to the food-o-matic, “they're fully integrated archailects **[1]** composed of refracted micronodes for ephemeral interactions.”

“Oh! So... it self-destructed?”

Ze arched zer brow and ignored him as ze withdrew zer half-melted coffee ice cream and mandarin orange sorbet, balancing the slice of gingerbread very carefully and bumping him out of the way with zer hip. The gingerbread was dark and heavy with rum, rich with molasses, allspice, and bits of fruit, and quite distracting to the nose.

“You really like that stuff, huh?” he teased.

“You should too, you know. I find that it ' _puts me in the mood_ ,' in case you hadn't noticed.”

“Best stuff in the world, like I always say. Did I ask? No sirree, not me! You sure you got enough there? Lemme go get you some more, you look famished.”

=====

“ _...Spirits and Demons: beware!_ ” **[2]** Avery sang aloud, nasal and off-key.

His heart was light and the tune jaunty. All was good with the world.

Billie slapped his arm lightly, half in jest, half soberly.

“OK, OK. But you still ain't said: which one of us is Spencer and which is Tracy?”

“You _do_ remember my ' _frog-tongue_ ,' hmm...?”

A smile glued itself to his face as he lost himself for a moment.

“Care to see it again?”

His attention snapped back to the present as the tip of zer tongue slid gently across zer lips, arcing upward to reach zer nose, then slid seductively down and across zer chest.

The tweaks to a Genomorph's body took some time to affect, from hours for minor biochemistry to a few days for major anatomical shifts, and could come about only by horizontal gene transfer. They also took a bit of a toll in caloric needs, nutrition, and even some degree of subconscious acuity while being brought online. Zer body accounted for environmental needs automatically, but ze could also intentionally call up modifications that zer genetic library had previous exposure to.

“I'll be good,” he promised.

Sometimes zer modifications served no immediate practical need, but this ' _frog-tongue_ ' – as Avery had once dubbed it – served several uses, and it was one modification that ze was glad to keep.

Coming out of Planck-BEC transit, they saw what they'd already expected, but it was still difficult to accept.

A featureless surface fully a light year in radius, slightly rounded along the edge and tapering like an inverted chocolate kiss beneath.

Featureless, that is, except for a single structure at the center of the flat face.

A rococo monstrosity ten million miles in each direction **[3]** , with what could only be described as a garden world with a like footprint laid out before what was undoubtedly its front façade. Sensors showed a Class-M atmosphere along the disc face, along with a one-gee field that displayed a purely columnar Weyl-Ricci, solar light beaming into existence in all downward directions from its Kármán line.

Following the beautifully curving ocean-river to either side, one's eyes were drawn naturally and gracefully to a very clear landing area at what amounted to its doorstep.

Their descent was unhindered and uneventful.

For all of the pomp of the structure's exterior, its interior – or at least what might be called its foyer, whatever its physical extent – was that of a typical space station. Somewhat more convivial, and certainly less business-like, but still easily recognizable as what one might expect of a rich eccentric with an entire planet's resources to throw at their vestibule. Literally a world's resources – that _entire_ world, physically – if you poured it all into an enormous puff-pastry and leavened it with intergalactic tech to solve the engineering issues.

And this was just one of the many identical installations that had simply appeared across the galaxies and voids. They had shown up simultaneously, some balancing on black holes' ergospheres, a few sitting directly in place and pierced through by quasars' jets, quite a few buried deep within thick nebulae, and every single one neither affected by nor affecting their surrounding medium.

Avery took a long look across the vast open area, the city-sized water features and rest areas, then back at their all terrain mobile shelter.

“We're gonna need a bigger boat.”

No sooner had he said this than they noticed an unobtrusive area, displaying numerous models of vehicles, but all clearly top of the line. Above the top of the line, from what he could see of Billie's reactions.

All were parked pointing inward, at least those that one could see or infer to have directionality to them.

All were open to anyone who might come along.

“What do you think?” he asked.

Billie simply tilted zer head down and pulled zer neck back, looking up at him with zer brow knitting in clear communication that ze thought that he had finally lost the last of whatever he'd had that passed for Deathworlder sanity.

Then the air between them and the courtesy suite lit up with a soft lavender glow, calm ochre strips marching away at a sedate pace.

In the end, they selected one that resembled a three-legged ice-skating wading pool. Every ship was the height of luxury, food and drink – curious fruit juices, tantalizing pastries, and strange meats of elusive textures and flavors – were brought to them by various services objects (or possibly creatures; they really couldn't tell) in each that they boarded, but this one was the least outlandish-looking of the lot. After the first servitor pair had sought to massage them, and Billie had slapped them soundly for it, further overtures remained constrained to silent tour guides and wait-staff.

The ship traveled far but fast. There was no way to tell their speed, seeming breakneck and crawling at the same time. Sizes and distances were deceptive, and no two things offered a consistent gauge.

At last it came to rest at the opening of a hallway. A hallway of reasonable size letting in to a brass wall without other marks for as far as they could see.

It felt almost claustrophobic in contrast with the journey thence.

They proceeded forward, now on foot, though fed and rested, Ryo-ohki alternating between flouncing along the hall ahead of them and bounding back again.

With nothing more to look at, they became intimately familiar with the walls, ceiling, and floor along the monotonous path. A bland beige to the sides, slightly darker below, slightly lighter above, and hints of varicolored mood-lighting to the air at times. No clear turns were apparent, though every so often they would look ahead or behind and find that the hall now showed some gentle curve to the side, or an incline or downward slope.

They had walked for hours.

Dank and now ill-lit, the air having grown clammy and close, the walls having slowly shifted from finished and seamless metallo-ceramic polymer to crumbling mortar and decaying stones, the hallway had come to an end.

They had seen the exit for a while before reaching it, though it seemed to near them only in jumps.

Now that they had exited, they stood outside of a cave mouth, a simple flat-bottomed boat sitting untended not twenty feet away, a barge-like coracle, no oars nor sails nor rudder. The beach to either side felt soft and pliant, a continuous surface rather than sand, though dully reflective as if of lightly brushed metal, and stretching off into the distance to grow dim and blurred in the twilight and mist.

“Any chance I could talk you into that dolphin blow-hole thing, later?” Avery asked lightly, eyeing the shallow water of a nearby cove.

Billie looked at him, then the cove, and back again, waiting for him to focus on the moment.

He wiggled his eyebrows in an exaggerated fashion, hoping to get a laugh out of zer.

“Yes, that sounds like a terrific idea! Absolutely _the most appropriate_ _ **possible**_ course of action at this time,” ze replied, shaking zer head in equal but mild parts amusement and frustration, and muttering “Maybe later, you sex-crazed Deathworlder.”

Seeing no other option suggest itself, they chose the obvious, the ship accelerating moderately as soon as they'd boarded and heading toward the strait at the far side of the water, raising barely a ripple over the slow swells.

As they made some distance from the beach, the mist thinned, first showing clear the vast and irregular blocks that thrust out from the surface, seeming convex and concave in turns with their angles and curves holding no sure and steady form, and then permitting the looming figures themselves to slowly become apparent along the horizon to the sides.

Cyclopean statues, miles-tall each, their bodies twisting and contorted, some with long and vicious tails in mid-lash, others bearing tentacles depending from their mouths, still others indiscernible but yet giving the impression of deep thought slowed to a standstill. A pale and spectral light limned their skins wan and pallid, leaving a sense of subliminal and oily patterns writhing whenever one wasn't looking.

It didn't help lighten the mood any that Avery could almost hear something baying far ahead of them.

=====

After what might arguably have been only a few miles, the mist closed in once more, sounds muffled and seeming to come from any distance and no direction.

This continued for perhaps ten more minutes before the ship grounded itself.

“Hello, hello, hello-o!”

Avery turned from helping Billie off, stepping out of zer way so that they could now both see the being of smokeless fire that stood before them, chipper and bouncing on its heels as if to greet them warmly.

“Ahh, I am so very glad to see you again, it will have been simply too long,” he said, smiling expansively, “I remembered just in time that you were due to arrive now, and so will be leaving to see you in only a few minutes.”

Avery wasn't sure which to disbelieve more, his ears or his eyes.

Not many Humans had made it off of Earth, or glowed, for that matter – aside from a few hedonists seeking the exotic pleasures and relaxations of alien worlds and culture, there just wasn't much out here to appeal to anyone but a few scientists.

Ryo-ohki's ears perked as she bobbed her head down, then up, repeating this a few times before leaping all around their host, who immediately produced a large carrot from nowhere.

“You may call me Cauchy, and I do apologize for the charade. All of the entry was just theater for your benefit, to give you a sense of accomplishment and some ambiance. Terribly important, ambiance. And a sense of accomplishment. Can't get anywhere without that. Or ambiance, come to think of it.”

Avery leaned in to Billie and whispered behind his hand “Battier than a belfry full of bats on a buttered bagel...”

“Billie, Avery, come. We'll eat, we'll talk, and this will all make ever so much more sense. Except for the bits that won't, of course.”

Dreamlike, sudden and without transition, while yet offering no psychological surprise, as if this were what one would expect had they given it any thought, they were ensconced within a private dining area of comfortable size laid out with cushions all around. Whole lamb tenderloins wrapped in bacon with a mushroom and chestnut chutney between them (hints of anchovy and capers clearly present in the Dijon vinaigrette aroma), and all beneath an outer layer of pancetta sat before each of them on silver platters that hovered still in the air, as did the wine, the crab bisque with malted onion bread, roasted potatoes and toppings, bowls of honeyed lemon yogurt, plates of fig and date pastries, and indeed the entire service. All were engaged thus but for Ryo-ohki, at least, who lay in a pillowed cocoon of lettuce and turnip greens with a huge mixed salad before her, multiple vegetable juices clearly puddled throughout.

They weren't hungry at all – hadn't been since they were last on Billie's ship, in fact – but they all found that they had room to eat.

At a slight remove, neither too near nor too distant, a small assembly of animals played chamber music, its light sounds accompanied by several dancers and a handful of simple stage props.

Peering closer, Avery grew certain that the trees and houses in the background were no props.

“This isn't _Yggdrasil_ , after all,” Cauchy smiled.

“What's Yggdrasil?”

Cauchy smiled again, “Enigmatic.”

“Nano-aether? Some sort of utility fog?” Billie asked abruptly, waving zer hand at the meal.

“No, not that way” Cauchy replied, “quite literally nano-aether in that what you would call Planck-epsilon-bots form and re-form to purpose, and predictively, out of the aetherial substrate of reality, writing bespoke local physical laws as needed and separately endowing resulting materials with whatever properties are called for. You could say that it's easier than doing it myself, but technically it's more complicated in fact, though only in the same sense as epsilon-sub-null **[4]** is meaningfully larger than epsilon-sub-epsilon.”

Avery glanced to Billie, who only shook zer head.

Ze was clueless as to what this mysterious Genomorph was talking about, and greatly relieved that Avery was showing patience with zer practically private conversation. Still and all though, it was unspeakably gauche to dive into conversation in one's homeworld language when around other species without first ensuring that they too understood it or possessed a translator.

Considering all of this, ze cast about. The food, all of the familiar things of home, lacked luster. The fresn **[5]** bars were... adequate; but likewise, the raktajino a flavorless dishwater to match its tepid state, the hasperat bland and seeming almost as if made of mashed avocado and boiled spinach and crème fraîche in unseasoned roux crêpes, and the iguana-chicken tasted like steamed tofu.

Ze had no idea of how Avery was managing to make his way through any of it.

At least Ryo-ohki seemed happy with her greens.

“Home is where the heart is, some say,” Cauchy murmured, looking at zer meaningfully.

Ze looked up at this, but ze only gestured to zer food again.

Sighing, ze nodded and returned to zer plates, only to find vichyssoise with brown bread rarebit, a perfectly seared bacon cheeseburger with roasted tomatoes and bursting with grease, chipped potatoes, Caesar salad, a spiced treacle pudding with custard and pear – and _coffee_. Looking up again, ze saw that Avery's food had changed as well, now bearing all of the familiar hallmarks of deathworld cuisine.

“The nano-aether,” Cauchy explained, seeing zer surprise.

“Is it a new development?” ze asked.

“Not yet, no,” ze replied.

“I don't mean to be rude or nothing, but what's a Human doing way out here, anyway?” Avery asked.

More surprised by this than by anything else so far, Billie looked around quickly. Surely they were the only ones to have come here recently, and just as surely no other Human had been here before, much less left behind.

“Oh, investigating the mysterious, of course.”

“And how'd you get here?”

“I was already here, have always will be – that's why you are now, after all,” Cauchy replied.

“Where's this other Human?” Billie interjected nervously. Ze'd grown accustomed to their ways, to an extent, but they were wildly unpredictable, and the circumstances here were far from ordinary.

“What other Human?” Avery replied, looking around himself, now.

“The one that you're talking about, dear.”

“What? I was just talking with Cauchy, here.”

“Yes. About a Human.”

His eyes narrowed as he tried to work out where ze was going with this.

Ze continued to stare at him levelly while waiting for him to simply answer zer.

It was Cauchy who brokered the détente.

“He means me, Billie. I am a Ljósálf **[6]** , and our physical appearance varies with the psyche of the observer. To you, I am a Genomorph; to him, a Human. And no, I don't speak any language **[7]** , which is why you're each able to understand me respectively – and before you ask, I can't read your mind, I only knew because it's what you _were_ going to ask, though you won't now, but it's just as true, so the paradox resolves as a subjunctive tautology – a sort of Nash Equilibrium cum Feynman diagram.”

Needless to say, this sparked some rather confusing conversation. For one thing, it turned out that Ljósálfar tour worlds, which Cauchy insisted were “ _world-ponds_ ,” as if they were museums, precious and fleeting moments pinned in place like flies in amber.

“And our universe is one of them?” Billie asked, trying to feel zer way through what Cauchy was saying.

“Yes.”

“And these other universes–”

“World-ponds. Or worlds, if you wish.”

“They're worlds, but not in this universe.”

“Right.”

“And this universe is a world.”

“Exactly.”

“But these other worlds aren't universes.”

“Well... some of them are. An infinite number of them, really. Beth two of them, if you really want to split hairs.”

“And all of these universes _aren't_ a multiverse.”

“Not at all, just all part of the universe as a whole, really.”

“So they're all just worlds, as far as universes and worlds go.”

“To be fair, so are the worlds. They're worlds too. And some have universes in them.”

“An infinite number of worlds? Beth two of them, if I really wanted to split hairs?”

“Now you have it!”

Ze had no idea what ze had, but it was nice to have it.

_Like nailing down mud, Avery would say._

“You know what they say,” Cauchy countered, apropos of nothing, “all roads lead to Ljósálfheimr. Isn't that right, Ryo-ohki, my little Beth Node **[8]**? Yes it is! Yes! And you know just what I'm talking about, now don't you? Ohh, yes you do!”

The cabbit purred as her leg thumped in time with his scratching her head and neck, and chucking her beneath her chin with his fingertips.

“Where's Ljósálfheimr?” Avery asked.

“Well-l-l, after normalizing your non-orientable monadic space – co-dimension **[9]** three, you might say, but _that_ would be _telling_ ,” Cauchy winked, “– and accounting for the effective cosmic scalar transform, zeta function notwithstanding...” he continued, sticking a finger into his mouth, then holding it aloft for a moment, “round about fifty billion light years thataway,” he said, crossing his arms, one finger pointing vaguely up and to the side, the other hand curled halfway around backward, “You could then add a little over one point eight million miles west-northwest, plus quite a bit of a ways extra-up and just a touch semi-kata in a Hausdorff-fractal sense. Or not, that's your call.

“Look, I called you here today... do you know, I've _always_ wanted to say that!

“I called you here today to discuss a matter of great importance.”

Here he looked around, as if seeing if anyone were eavesdropping.

Softly, the entertainers' music faded away, replaced by sourceless expository music drifting downward from the very air above them in general and gradually becoming focused from some point between them all.

“I'm going to tell you a story, and in this story, time isn't, it's just being,” he began, tapping the bridge of his nose, “The Greys go as fast as possible to stay in one place, a question of indeterminacy, you see, a bit like the Red Queen **[10]** , though I really don't think that you'd like her one bit. I know _I_ don't, I don't mind telling you.

“Meanwhile, Ásgarðr is set to position-only, making speed irrelevant – not negated or uncertain, mind; movement is possible, but that would cause ' _problems_ ,' and I won't be clarifying that phrasing. Location is treated as a property of matter, assigned by quantum hand-waving, and can be manipulated and designated; it's what keeps Ásgarðr in place and shielded, after all.

“If we assume some upper speed limit for ships – or buildings, or cities, or world-ponds – then this explains the observed speeds that one would expect of Kardashёv type two-plus technology to be able to exceed. This isn't _necessary_ , if such speeds are permitted to occur, but permitting higher speeds would also beg the question of larger networks of world-ponds forming more solid groups or empires.

“Now tell me, why do you suppose it is that they _don't_ , hmm? What if, let's say – and just for fun, of course – what if there were some property of spacetime that doesn't prohibit that, it just makes it an _Incredibly Bad Idea_ to exceed some approximate boundary speed? For example, if you go less than speed X, you're fine. Go at speeds in a certain higher range, and you'll blow things to kingdom come. Your ship, and likely everything within a thousand miles, for example. Go above that range though, and you're looking at shattering the foundations of reality. Not a black hole, as such – more like... more like reaching a resonant frequency in a two-dimensional world set between glass plates, or no, a two-dimensional world that _is_ a glass plate, one that's right smack up against other such worlds: rub those just right, the panes shatter, and everything melts into madness, and reality becomes a distorted version of itself, along with local fluctuations of physical laws that might well vary over time as well. This melting and merging of realities isn't a probability-superposition-thing, just a blurry wobbly thing of literal physical speed and location in a spatiotemporally infinite rule-based random universe; it all has to do with which world you're in at any given moment, and being in too many of them over the course of too few moments, and so it reaches a sort of Hagedorn temperature, except that instead of energy density, it's the informational entropy of the location property, which in a Shannon sense is somewhat equivalent I suppose, not to mention the silly buggers it plays with an imaginary Doppler shift...

“But not to worry, this won't be a problem.”

They sat there dazed for a moment.

“Then why are you telling us all of this?” Billie asked, “And you do realize that we have no idea who or what all of these things are, don't you?”

“No, no, no. And yes, of course. But both of these are _why_ it won't be: because it _did_ , or else we wouldn't be here now, because you weren't anymore, or else you _would have_ been, and _we_ wouldn't, but now you are because you will be were. You see? Reality never was anyway, since we wouldn't be here if it were, except that we are, so there it is. Bit of a sticky wicket, I know.”

“But why so _many_ of these... this place?”

“Well, I had to be sure that I got your attention, now didn't I?”

Having wound down, he focused on a fingernail for a moment, then began to chew at it.

“So, you're trying to warn us to warn them not to play with higher speeds?” Avery asked, beginning to boil it down.

“Oh, quite the contrary: what will be, always was. Now it's just a question of not doing what you're going to do, and you haven't, so you won't. I find that what isn't happening is always far more fascinating to watch than what is, don't you agree?

“Now, aside from catching up to do, time is short, but we have plenty of it. So, what did _you_ want to talk about?”

In the end, they left rather more confused than they'd been upon their arrival, but had apparently made an old friend, having only just then met him – or zer or it – and were eventually assured that they did indeed meet again. They actually found themselves looking forward to this, albeit with more than a little concern.

=====

They had talked for so long that dinner had turned into an extended brunch. Billie had nibbled the most delicious ginger muffin, then a simple gingered mushroom and scallion noodle soup. Knowing better, this soon became a theme nevertheless. The ginger curried chicken had been strong, but the “palate cleansing” slices of pickled ginger understandably more so. Ze'd thrown caution to the wind after that, piling on a light ginger tea, sliced pork with ginger-rhubarb compote, salad with a ginger dressing, caramelized peaches in ginger syrup, and at last a large ginger margarita.

Yeller had chosen to sleep in the flight deck, and they'd finally managed to free the bed of Paws, and so they could now relax at last.

“Mmm, did I mention that raʔûR will be visiting? You'll finally get to meet her!”

Avery nodded uncertainly, not uncomfortable with the thought, but unsure of where ze was heading with this. The Cat-girl was one of zer best friends, and he didn't wish to misstep.

“And I never have shown you my spinnerets, now have I...?” ze asked coyly, sipping a sweet ginger Armagnac as they slid beneath the sheets. The bed covers were semi-sapient, designed to snuggle close and actively provide psychological cover, warmth, cooling ripples of air, massages, and hugs; Avery still wasn't quite used to them, but this spinneret thing held his full attention now.

He quirked his brow.

“Oh, nothing, just a little surprise that I was calling up before all of this began – but if you're not interested...” ze wriggled zer hips suggestively, then shrugged.

The temperature and air currents were perfect, the gravitational center set to just inches above the sleeping nest, but still a ginger candle burned nearby, adding to the close of zer day. It would be days before the air cleared of it, and they'd both be sore and exhausted afterward, but it would be worth it, and right now ze had only one thing on zer mind anyway.

Their report would take some time to compose. Detailing it all would be straightforward enough, but supplying coherent interpretations of it all would likely prove itself a challenge.

For now, they simply settled for a good, long rest – first things first, though, of course; after all, one must keep one's eyes on the important things in life.

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 Archailect: See Orion's Arm for more info:  
> ▐► https://www.orionsarm.com/eg-topic/492d76d2f173e
> 
> 2 Demons and Witches: The 1975 Filmation live action Scooby-wannabe “Ghost Busters” theme song, the (not its 1986 incarnation, nor unrelated Columbia franchise):  
> ▐► https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lBZCUiR7Iq8&list=PLIl2eWOVM20HMp85S3KZFgftJRgwStzIv
> 
> 3 10^14 sq mi footprint, 10^21 cu mi volume.
> 
> 4 Epsilon null: Cauchy is referring to the surreal divisions of infinitesimal epsilon, not the transfinites, or I'd have written “...meaningfully smaller...” rather than “...meaningfully larger...” – his point being that either is negligible, mathematically vanishing, but not identical.
> 
> TL;DR is essentially (and painfully inaccurate, mathematically) 1/∞; in this context, εε could then be likened to (1/∞)/∞, though this is where we would normally differentiate between the former denominator being aleph null and the latter combined form being more akin to ℵ1 or ℶ1 (then again, normally ε2 ≝ 0, which would normally put paid to the whole issue were it not for surreals).
> 
> For a more in-depth coverage of epsilon (and some ZFC), see the Technical Appendix of the “Icewall” .pdf:  
> ▐► https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1BG7P_sVezz8Dn5b8js_34yeAjSBhfN0v
> 
> See also “I am the Walrus” **footnote** on aleph and beth numbers (essentially the transfinite complement of infinitesimal epsilons – the latter not to be confused with the poorly named transfinite epsilon):  
> ▐► https://archiveofourown.org/works/26951104
> 
> This footnote is a rather abbreviated and very limited explanation, but it would take up far too much space to explain it well (not to mention all of the mistakes that I'd no doubt make). Go to your favorite math site / encyclopedia, and/or search engine – or simply StackExchange, Wikipedia, Wolfram MathWorld, DavidDarlingInfo, Quora, etc. – and look into the terms {transfinite, infinitesimal, aleph number, beth number, nimber, surreal number, hyperreal number, and ZFC / Zermelo–Fraenkel set theory with AC (axiom of choice)}.
> 
> 5 Fresn: “Child of fortune”, Spinrad.
> 
> 6 Ljósálf: Operating at a level at least that of the Avatars of “Charmed” and Time Lords of “Dr. Who”, Ljósálfar are demonstrably Powers (see header-note re. “Powers and Principalities”; Tier Two [Supers], Rank 5+: individually Kardashёv Type I-II, Classic Traveller TL 17-25) bare minimum. The nature of Cauchy's private universe (and Ljósálven idiosyncrasies) argues a good chance of his being a low-rank Principality (Tier Three, Rank 1-2), presumably more powerful than Moorcock's Gods of Law and Chaos, though probably(?) less powerful than Q, the Beyonder, or Dr. Manhattan.
> 
> “I am Legion” .pdf:  
> ▐► https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1BG7P_sVezz8Dn5b8js_34yeAjSBhfN0v
> 
> NB: re. Principalities, cf. Qhalqhal of “Nothing's gonna change my world” URL below (or Negent of the WIP “I am Legion”): individually Kardashёv Type III-V, Classic Traveller TL >27→31+.  
> ▐► https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380977
> 
> Ljósálven environs are perceived as whatever comforts the beholder, appropriate to circumstance. In a like manner, their physical appearance is that of whichever species is looking at them. >>> **SPOILER** >>> This is much like the Vorlons of Babylon 5, though without the limiting factor of how many are looking – it was only after thinking of this (and not much later, either) that I finally watched B5, but there's never anything new under the sun, it seems. <<< **END SPOILER** <<<
> 
> 7 Language: In “The Space Orcs are coming, hooray, hooray!”, we saw that all of Earth's languages are heard by intergalactics as a single language with tiny regional differences that might as well amount to no more than slight and irrelevant accents. Now we find that each species has its own language, but that they're presumably mostly or always the pulp sci-fi trope of a monoculture; one species, one language. We also see that at least this Ljósálf (NB: yes, the rest of them, too) doesn't even have language at all, much less a language in particular. Curiouser and curiouser.
> 
> 8 Beth Node: I'd explain this, but... spoilers. If you really insist, then you can find them (and Aleph Nodes) explained in a couple of references in the “Icewall” .pdf and the Afterword of the “Seize the Deity” .pdf. Once you tumble to their implications, make what you will of this Galactic world-pond.
> 
> “Seize the Deity” .pdf:  
> ▐► https://drive.google.com/drive/folders/1BG7P_sVezz8Dn5b8js_34yeAjSBhfN0v
> 
> 9 Co-dimension: There's an Easter Egg waiting there. Who's interested, search out the term. Doctor the math. It won't take too much time, and it's “relatively” funny.
> 
> 10 Red Queen: Yes, the “Alice in Wonderland” series. She's an example BBEG in this story's larger RPG/story meta-setting of Icewall.


	2. Don't throw the babe out with the bathwater

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Billie's best friend raʔûR, a Cat-girl, has come to visit, and she's brought along a little surprise: áõŋː, the super-sweet and slightly air-headed oversexed Angora. “ _So, how bad could that be?_ ” is one thing that you learn never to ask, but Avery's about to find out.
> 
> Heads up: this chapter and the next tend to take on a somewhat more Tenchi Muyo atmosphere than most of my writing.
> 
> 𝑫𝒐𝒏'𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒕𝒐 𝑳𝒊𝒌𝒆, 𝑺𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒖𝒃𝒔𝒄𝒓𝒊𝒃𝒆! ❤️

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One of the characters herein, áõŋː, might normally be interpreted as being sexually interested in Avery. She isn't. She's very physically expressive, and the anime trope of unwitting double entendres is part of her psychology, and she's openly extremely sexual with her girlfriend raʔûR, but she's not interested in Avery that way. In another life, perhaps, but not here. She just finds him physically safe and protective, and socially supportive and nurturing. I do have demi- and asexual and aromantic characters in various combinations (aside from the differently-sexual nature of Billie's Genomorphic biology here [with Avery], or Friday's plant-hermaphroditic nature [with Sonic] in my [Zelda/Peach series](https://archiveofourown.org/series/1751167)), but áõŋː isn't, she just displays a different mix of tendencies that are usually precursors or metaphors in most fiction, and are only exactly as presented in her case.

Laughter and giggling floated down the hallway as Billie and Avery approached the flight deck. These were accompanied by moments of intense silence, growls, smacking noises, and muffled thuds.

There were two Cat-girls sitting there in the flight deck, grinning and batting around a red laser ball **1** enthusiastically as it changed its size, shape, and transparency periodically. They chased it in spurts, sometimes just watching it whiz or drift, while at other times one or both shot off after it, even haring away as if being chased by it or each other. No rules seemed to apply; it was a random mix of racquetball, dodge ball, keep-away, and tag.

“It's a _very_ serious relationship – they've been dating for weeks and _weeks_ now,” Billie explained quietly.

“...weeks?” Avery asked, wondering why and how they had become so serious so quickly.

Ze nodded solemnly, as if to reaffirm just how long that really was.

The Cat-girls stopped suddenly, as if on cue.

Although there were two of them, the taller of the pair commanded Avery's attention. Athletic, there was something about her, almost a feral air of restrained violence and mayhem. Standing now, the slim short-hair was almost as tall as he, her movements graceful and lithe as of a dancer. Beneath this was a muscularity that belied her size, a tone that was more than mere fitness, bespeaking training and carrying with it an unstated warning. Covered in shiny blackness, she almost glided toward him, her movements clear enough, yet indistinct in their particulars.

As she approached, he could see that her features were a little closer to Human than those of most Cat-girls. Already presenting halfway between cat and Human features, Cat-girls' features held a spectrum of potential differences distinctly broader than those of Humans, and perhaps half were fur-covered **2**. Both of these Cat-girls sported the usual ears, whiskers, and tails.

Coming to stand eye to eye with him, centimeters apart, she kept her gaze locked with his, breathing, her upper lip curling away as she maintained her unblinking scrutiny. The intensity of the moment weighed down on him, evoking an acute awareness of his every cell, their surrounds, their exact place in the universe and history around them. After the better part of a minute, she brought her face slightly closer to his and licked his nose, then turned casually to greet Billie as they lost themselves immediately in a long drawn-out sniffing with cheek- and throat-nuzzlings.

It was only after this that he realized that the other was now standing before him, a bit shorter, the almost Bengal-patterned Persian (whose face betrayed some Angora lineage) weighing in at just over Billie's height. He had no idea of how he was to proceed. Billie hadn't said anything about sniffing or staring, and he couldn't tell if he should shake her hand or pet her.

Where the prior's eyes had been a piercing ice blue, this one's were a striking deep emerald, and indeed would be mesmerizing were it not that they instead provided a calm focus to highlight her features, rather than clashing with the rich oranges, creamy whites, and multi-toned grays of her fur.

She resolved his dilemma by stepping forward and rubbing her side against him a couple of times from head to thigh, then turning and repeating this the other way. Soft hints of unseen curves beneath her luxuriant fur made themselves obvious with this.

His eyes shot nervously to Billie as he kept his arms rigidly away, his hands clearly in sight.

Ze looked over, but didn't seem perturbed at all.

“Hi,” he offered, hoping that this wasn't too trite.

Everyone stopped.

The short-hair turned toward him once more. Not actually bristling, there was still a sense about her that issued forth a note of protocol to be observed, and his having stepped into shit inadvertently.

“raʔûR **3** ,” she said after a moment, then turned back to Billie as they began to talk.

Something in the air shifted with this, becoming more open, and the Persian smiled at him. It wasn't a Human smile – it didn't have the pulling back of the corners of her mouth, or the crinkling of her eyes, instead being only a slight parting of her mouth and a little flaring of her nostrils as she lifted her chin and leaned forward some – but it bore all of the emotional lightness just the same.

“áõŋː,” she said, leaving it at that as she cuddled into his chest.

Though their fur offered ample cover, he still felt awkward at their lack of clothing.

Seeking desperately to disengage himself, he cast about for some excuse.

“Could I offer you guys something to eat?” he asked.

Once more, the room stilled, this time bringing with it a resounding silence as the others' conversation trailed off.

áõŋː's eyes – at least he presumed that this was her name, since he knew the first to be raʔûR – were wide, her head now high as if to get a better view, but he couldn't tell if this were from shock or happy surprise.

“Food, yes!” Billie interjected, relieving the tension, “Avery, honey, could you get a selection of things, please? Mostly meat and dairy, some marrow – and a lot of fish and bird.”

Ze and raʔûR sat at the table, once more engrossed in catching up as he headed to the food-o-mat, trailed closely by áõŋː.

Paws wandered in then, though there was still no sign of Yeller or Jinx. This caused no stir, or even apparently any notice. He wondered if that meant that they kept pets as well, or if Billie had told raʔûR to expect a cat. He also wondered how they'd react to the dogs.

Shuttling platters of deli cuts and mild cheese wedges, pitchers of milk and several tureens au jus, he found áõŋː right behind him at every turn, and so eventually conscripted her into kitchen duty. He focused mainly on Earth food, but with selections of Genomorph cuisine that he'd become familiar with, and a few Cat-girl recommendations from the food-o-mat. As each new dish materialized, he'd hand it to her, and she'd place it just so at the table and come back again, her eyes still disconcertingly wide.

Reflecting on their behavior, he was glad that at least the Cat-girls had arrived with serendipitous timing. They were between assignments at the moment, and hadn't yet decided on any firm plans, so people coming to visit and stay a while were a welcome change in routine.

Billie and raʔûR were already grazing by the time that he and áõŋː joined them.

Fixing a bowl of cereal, he noticed áõŋː just waiting there, watching him.

Seeing his glance, she looked down at the table, then back again.

“It's OK if you go ahead and eat. I'm just getting my own stuff together now,” he prompted.

Her eyes widened further at this as she became much more relaxed and animated, selecting tidbits of everything, then making a second round in case she'd missed anything the first time before diving in.

Watching this, he shook his head and smiled.

They were a little weird, but at least he'd navigated things safely. Things would probably be interesting for a while.

It wasn't long before they'd moved through a course or two, and were now picking little bits of things that happened to catch their eye. Nor was it long before he found himself the subject of áõŋː's curiosity once more.

“Lox and cream cheese on toast. Would you like to try some?”

She leaned forward, her nose flaring ever so slightly at it.

Lunging forward, she bit fully a quarter of it away.

Chewing with the most unusual mixture of delight and confusion on her face, she began to purr softly.

“I'm not sure about your wood, but I want more of your creamy fish-cheese,” she said after a moment, sliding herself around his hand and wriggling into his lap.

Again, he shot a look to Billie, but again, ze seemed unconcerned with áõŋː's actions.

“Please?” áõŋː asked, her mouth wide and eyes closed.

He shifted beneath her, trying not to draw attention to the already-rising response that this served only to exacerbate.

Resigning himself to this, reasoning that perhaps her psychology really wasn't all that different from Paws's, he proceeded to do just that, taking bites for himself when he could.

It wasn't long before she'd become comfortable enough with him to finally talk, and he found himself listening to the story of how she and raʔûR had come together. It was easy enough for him to follow the tale, once he got used to her speech pattern. It was almost a single continuous sentence: short, yet still managing to feel a bit jumbled, somewhat breathless, and conveying – almost immersing him in – a sense of wonder and the excitement of the moment as seen through her eyes. She was certainly effusive.

They'd met while she'd been shopping.

“raʔûR walked _right_ over to me, she was just so _feral_ – almost _prowling_ – and said hello even though we'd _never_ sniffed before, not even _once_ , and we talked for _hours_ , and then she even took me out for _brunch_ that _very same day_ and _fed me_ , and then we had _dinner_ that afternoon _all_ the way through the _evening_ , and there was _so much fish_ ! She smelled just right though, and it all happened so fast!”

He looked around, a little confused, surveying all of the breakfast still at the table, and beginning to get a better idea of how she saw the world.

“She simply _swept_ me off of my feet, and we've been together _ever since_ !” she smiled brightly.

Having said this, she wriggled in his lap once more as if to find just the right spot, licked his ear a few times, her tongue rasping loudly to him, bit it, snuggled up against his shoulder, and fell sound asleep, her bass purr now rumbling through him.

Half an hour later, raʔûR announced that she, too, needed a nap.

Billie led the way to their guest room, Avery carrying the still-unconscious áõŋː nestled against him. raʔûR's head swiveled at every nook and cranny, slowing her steps at each intersection to investigate the scents in the air. Having satisfied her immediate concerns, she climbed into the bed as Avery laid áõŋː down. As he did, she began pawing in her sleep, but settled once more as soon as raʔûR curled up around her.

Dimming the air's luminescence and adjusting the doorway's dielectric constant to near-opacity, they left their house guests to their rest.

=====

Later that afternoon, as he walked into the flight deck, Avery found áõŋː bent double across a command chair. It was arranged in a fully reclined position, but her contorted figure couldn't possibly be natural. How in the world she had managed to do this to herself was irrelevant to him as he rushed to her aid.

Arriving at her side, her realized too late what should have been obvious.

Her head popped up, tongue still halfway out of her mouth as she smiled at him.

“Do you need cleaning, too?” she asked, “Come here and I'll take care of you!”

He backed away slowly, trying not to offend, and trying even harder not to think about what he had just seen.

Once more before dinner, now just trying to walk things off, he ran into raʔûR and áõŋː, this time in the game room. They were standing by a pool table – something that Billie had insisted that they try as soon as he'd described it, and which she had enjoyed so much that it now featured as a default assembly ever-ready for players – áõŋː leaning over the table as raʔûR held her from behind, arms around her waist, biting her neck.

“Y'all aren't about to, umm...?” he asked nervously. He didn't really think that they were in the midst of anything private, but he wasn't prepared to take the risk.

raʔûR turned to him, a quizzical look on her face.

“Never mind me, I just thought I might be interruptin' something. Private-like I mean. Something private. I mean, that you guys were maybe fixing to get physical, not just playing at pool there,” he said, stumbling over himself in his attempt to recover.

“What? Sex?” raʔûR asked, “No, I'm just social-mounting her, letting her know she's mine. Asserting myself.”

Avery brought his hand to his forehead, not sweating, but still feeling the need to rub his scalp in relief.

“ _Sex_ -mounting looks more like this–” raʔûR continued, bringing her claws to áõŋː's ribs and digging deep as her teeth bit harshly into áõŋː's scruff, áõŋː now yowling, her rear writhing and thrashing every which way beneath raʔûR. It took only a moment for this to trigger raʔûR's affect to become serious, the simulated chase now rapidly becoming the real thing.

He left without saying goodbye, the two now thoroughly preoccupied.

Dinner managed to occur without incident, and Avery was greatly relieved over this. The Cat-girls seemed to have worked off their energy, though he avoided thinking about where and how. The evening passed without incident as well, some simple conversation and entertainment, and they had all retired to their respective rooms a few hours later.

Standing in the bathroom, it took him a moment to pin down the sensation. He could feel someone watching him. Turning slowly, he found áõŋː leaning forward in the tub – not bathing, just sitting there – staring intently, her head level with his hips and tilted slightly in fascination, her neck shifting a little to the side in order to afford her a better view of things.

_No doors. Of course._

He hadn't really given it much thought after his first few days on the ship, but this fact struck home for him all at once now.

Finishing in haste, he left the room, not sure of what to say or how to handle this.

As he walked down the hallway, something heavy hit him from behind, and he collapsed to the floor.

áõŋː had pounced on him.

Rolling him over, she looked excited, almost fevered.

“I'm looking for raʔûR. It's a game! _Play_ with me?”

So saying, she levered herself upward a little, pushing him back to the floor in the process as she peered around. A moment later, she dropped back into a stealthy position, sliding all along his face as she did so, and burying it between her chest and her belly. As difficult as it was to breathe just then, matters were compounded by the unexpected discovery that her upper chest was only one of several areas sporting breasts **4**. raʔûR was modestly endowed, but with her hair as short as it was, he was still peripherally aware of her multiple attributes; he hadn't really thought about it before, and áõŋː's fur certainly tended to hide things, but in this position it was abundantly evident that she was arranged similarly and rather generously so.

Avery wasn't sure how he felt about things, or what to do, and he spent most of the day running it through his head to no avail.

áõŋː was sweet, but maybe a little too friendly, and didn't exactly seem to have any boundaries. raʔûR was... raʔûR; a little... assertive. Dominant. Not mean. Nice, really, just...

Things seemed to have gone over well enough with the dogs. Mostly. raʔûR had nearly attacked Jinx, recognizing his species, but they'd talked their way around that. He'd even climbed up a few notches in her opinion upon learning that he'd tamed a quilled hyæna.

áõŋː couldn't get enough of the tribbles, hunting them down all over the place and hug-attacking them. He was a little worried that they might be losing some hair already from all of the cuddling and petting.

He felt that he should talk with Billie about things – that he _needed_ to, in fact – but was reluctant to bring it up.

It wasn't his ship, and raʔûR was her friend, and áõŋː was _her_ girlfriend, and it was all a bit of a mess.

_Complicated._

When bedtime rolled around, he had yet to resolve the issue, falling asleep to random related events crossing his mind.

_Hot. A desert. They were swimming in moon dust._

_After a while, they were relaxing on soft pillows strewn all about, warm breezes caressing his skin. The pillows writhed every so often, covering him, sometimes making it difficult to breathe. Sometimes they were body-pillows stretched out against him, other times noodle-like and wrapped around him or entwined with his limbs, entangling and holding him fast. They were soft, but not fluffy; more... squishy, and slick with sweat._

_Then jelly-filled balloons pressed in at him from all directions._

Opening his eyes, he found Paws curled up between him and Billie and staring at him. Contemplating his wakefulness, she blinked slowly, then head butted him.

Looking into Billie's face, he realized that it was morning, with an attendant and comfortable pressure below, one that was matched by zer own as ze nudged zer hips a little closer, poking him right back, quite clear in zer intention.

That's when he noticed raʔûR's midriff just above their heads, her body curled around them, her own state difficult to miss. Normally more subdued, two rows of nipples were quite prominently displayed and currently pointed right at him.

Trying to ease down the bed a little, he found áõŋː across his legs – both of their legs, in fact – her face just above their groins and tucked downward.

“Don't you guys have your own room?” he asked cautiously.

“You smell right,” áõŋː's voice drifted up, muffled as it was, her fur tickling in the most personal way, “Safe.”

“You seem to fit reasonably well,” raʔûR allowed.

Billie nodded, “They're moving in and decided to adopt you.”

“Breakfast?” raʔûR breathed presumptuously into his ear, drawing close to him before stretching, then arching her back and rubbing across his face in the process, “Whitefish al burro e Asiago carbonara? Salmon cordon bleu? Grease-soaked shredded turkey, mostly dark meat, and heavy on the chopped giblets? Beef Wellington? Mmm, all of the above...”

This drew áõŋː's attention.

“Sausage, please! _Lots_ of _sausage_ !” she called out, turning to paw at his hip and beginning to knead.

Billie gave this a moment's thought, with an easy answer at hand.

“Coffee; definitely coffee. Then bacon and eggs, and soggy toast with syrup – and coffee! Then some more coffee. And maybe an assortment of doughnuts somewhere in the mix?”

“And cream! May I please have loads and _loads_ of _cream_ with your sausage? Please, please, _please_? And _cuddles_ , afterward!” áõŋː added.

Billie shared a look with raʔûR, then teased áõŋː, “And are you going to chew on him some more, too?”

“ _No!_ Maybe... _yes_ , but only after breakfast. And maybe during. And probably a little bit while he's making it! But that's all,” she replied, squirming some and proceeding to nibble his finger.

“Come on, lazy butt, up you go!” Billie said, smacking his hip lightly.

Rolling into the bed slightly in an attempt to turn himself away from áõŋː's face to the extent that he could, he replied “I can't exactly stand up right now. Give me a minute to – umm... – _adjust_ , and I'll be up. Could you hand me some pants or something?”

Wearily, he concluded that he needed a vacation from this vacation.

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1** Laser ball: Light with a path that's been bent to roughly a ball shape (with ≈30% chance of deforming to a disc, and ≈10% chance of becoming a dart; shape retention is on the order of tens of seconds, though this varies), given some electrostatic presence, and only reacting to everything without actually imparting momentum to objects; its impact can be elastic or inelastic, sometimes even taking off superelastically and moving at greater speeds than possible, or displaying counterintuitive rotation.
> 
> As well, rather than a separate footnote, I'll address the Cat-girls' presence here: it's no mistake that they simply showed up, no ship of their own, and without mention of Billie having docked at any port. They arrived unannounced (though no doubt the ship will have told Billie, and presumably Avery) by something equivalent to stepping disc. Think a combination of Niven's stepping discs and today's web: as long as they know the address (or can describe sufficiently well where they're trying to go to), and sufficient authorization is granted, they can get there; raʔûR presumably has the keys to let herself in, as it were.
> 
> **2** Cat-girl features: While a sizable percentage of Cat-girls fall into the basic range of anime Nekomusume, a greater number of them are closer to Star Trek Caitians and Niven's Kzin and Traveller RPG's Aslan and Prrt'. In this sense, it breaks down to something like 26% Nekomusume, 34% Thundercat, 40% Caitian/etc.. These two are somewhat in the middle, closer to Thundercats.
> 
> **3 ↑** For pronunciation help with /raʔûR/ and /áõŋː/, please see the IPA ([International Phonetic Alphabet](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/International_Phonetic_Alphabet#Letters)). The short (and painfully inaccurate) version is: “ra'oor” and “owng” (seriously: check the IPA instead).
> 
> **4** Breasts: As with their cat-Human facial feature spectrum and cat parts' general presence, Cat-girls' breasts vary from one to four pairs (even five on rare occasion).


	3. A day at the beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A beach resort planet, night life, an evil gang. Who could ask for anything more? This is the life...

Breakfast.

áõŋː smiled dreamily as she looked up at Avery.

“I still don't know about swallowing _all_ of your _wood_ , but there's just so much _cream_ that I can't _help_ myself! I could just _drink it all day_ , even though it _is_ so very _thick_ and _sticky_...”

Avery smiled uncomfortably as she laid into her rice pudding. The Cat-girl meant what she said, and she meant it well, but the way that she said it... well, bless her heart, she certainly had an interesting way with words.

He really wished that he could persuade her to call grains and tubers and such by their names, or at least “fruit” and “vegetables,” rather than just calling all plants and mushrooms “ _your wood_ ,” but at least she was happy.

To make matters worse though, she and raʔûR kept finding their way into his and Billie's bed. On top of this, they were increasingly distracting in their behavior. They were cute and friendly, and under other circumstances he'd certainly find them a welcome addition to his sleeping arrangement, but he was with Billie now.

They were nice, but he really needed some time alone with Billie. Just the two of them.

In short, he was horny.

With all of this, it was little wonder that he was all nods and smiles when Billie announced a resort world as their next destination.

Check-in was swift and easy, with Billie having made all of the arrangements in advance.

A topopolis-variant, it presented neither as a ball-planet nor as strands of yarn spanning the length of the orbit, instead being more like a ball of yarn: it occupied a spheroidal planetary volume, but held far more surface area than it had any right to by virtue of being layers and layers of interconnected miles-wide strands, practically a fairyland in every direction. It was a beautiful and entirely tropical world, the flora and natural landscape blending perfectly with the buildings and attractions. The air was pure and sweet, the light just perfect...

And their suite was arranged conveniently around a bed for four as the clear and sole focus.

He kept casting sidelong glances at it as they sat down to their complimentary lunch, already having growing concerns about the coming evening.

As if this weren't enough, áõŋː and raʔûR began to shed profusely, their fur disappearing rapidly.

“Y'all might want to throw something on if you want to stay decent,” Avery hedged once he realized just how much skin was now bare. He wasn't entirely certain that áõŋː would quite gather his meaning, but he was equally unsure of raʔûR's likely reaction.

Billie just tisked at him.

“You Deathworlders! Clothing is an entirely optional display of personal taste, not a matter of dire necessity.”

This meant that he needn't worry about however raʔûR felt about matters, but it did nothing to alleviate his current stress. The Cat-girls had already been naked the entire time that he'd known them so far, yes, but with this fur loss they were becoming naked-er and naked-er by the minute.

He just shook his head and hoped for the best.

This didn't last long, soon finding himself watching in mild distress as áõŋː sucked down shellfish, swallowing them whole, the latest having been an eight inch tubeworm that she'd sucked and squeezed and pulled from a chitinous exoskeleton.

“ _Mmm,_ ” she purred, “ _what delicious orgasms!_ ”

Avery's face froze.

Closing his eyes, he gently corrected “Organisms.”

Misinterpreting his expression, she paused to reassure him, patting his thigh and giving it a squeeze.

“It's really nice here, but I _really_ want _just y_ _our_ meat. What _you_ do with _your organs_ is _so_ much more _filling_ and _satisfying_ !”

For confirmation, she looked over to raʔûR, who wore an amused look.

“I think you like his meat a bit more than I do, but he has his uses,” she replied.

After lunch, while he used the bathroom, Billie had a quick talk with raʔûR and áõŋː, explaining Avery's primitive need for a cave of his own, and arranging it so that ze and Avery could have a little time alone together.

Avery walked back in just as raʔûR asked “Is that why he's been smelling funnier and funnier?”

Grinning and tittering as they gathered a few things, raʔûR stared blatantly at his crotch.

As they headed out, áõŋː turned to wave goodbye.

“Happy _sex_ time!” she called out as they closed the door, “We're looking forward to hearing _all_ of the _details_!”

While Avery tried to work out how to explain to Billie that he appreciated the time together, but needed something a bit more spontaneous, raʔûR and áõŋː took in the promenade. It was breathtaking, more so even than most of the planet already was.

At the mouth of the bay were two stands of enormous trees, towering a mile into the sky. From their cloud-like crowns of flowers streamed waterfalls, pushed up from the ocean by mighty organic hydraulic pumps composing the majority of their internal systems. What began as powerful geysers soon dissipated into thick rain, only to become a drifting mist that thinned and spread out, settling as a veil between them.

All-terrain jelly-mantas sailed across the sand and sea, floated lazily high above, and shot into the water for the delight of onlookers and riders alike, their rainbow sheens leaving dazzling tracers behind them.

áõŋː bounced along, her attention flitting from entertainers to interactive artwork to amusement parlors, raʔûR following close behind and watching everyone around them. áõŋː soon found herself drawn to one game in particular as she batted timidly at elusive automata **1** in a tabletop game of whack-a-prey. Seeing áõŋː's efforts and seeking to please her, raʔûR took a turn as well, her ears slightly down and back as she went about winning a sizable stick of cotton Catgirlnip for her. While raʔûR was distracted with this endeavor, áõŋː's attention was drawn to someone passing out holographic flyers that displayed beautiful women of all species, adoring crowds, and sumptuous personal transports. In no time, she'd entered a contest – a swimsuit contest – adding raʔûR and Billie to the roster as well, sure that they'd like it.

When áõŋː revealed her surprise, raʔûR found it a pleasing idea to display herself for others to dream of, which caught Avery by surprise. Billie wasn't sure how well it would go though, since zer current form was the relatively unknown Human look. Avery chose discretion over pointing out some of zer less Human features of the moment.

In the end, they opted in and set off to the venue with time enough to spare for a light meal beforehand. Avery was just glad that this took conversational attention away from “sex time.”

They were given an excellent table, and cushions were brought for the dogs. The dogs were just happy to be out and about, with the unintended side-effect of giving them plenty of room in the crowds, and exceptionally good service.

Glancing around, Avery decided to check out the competition surreptitiously.

One contestant was a Frognewton **2** , his sex changing almost visibly. Realizing this, Avery wondered for the umpteenth time why almost all aliens looked so very human-like, or nearly so. Another, a Starfish **3** – literally and “figuratively,” in that she was both a biologically piscine stellar analog and bore a broadly starfish figure – was performing what looked like a slow and sinuous dance by the bar. At this, he found himself wondering about her somewhat humanoid shape and size even as he peered closer to see if he could figure out what managed to maintain her stellar plasma form **4** , only to realize that her distinctly starfish appearance displayed a large number of distinctly _mammalian_ nubs covering her body. She smiled at him and turned to offer him a drink, but he tipped his hat and buried himself in conversation with Billie.

Once the contestants were gathered behind the stage and the show began, Avery sat back and tried to enjoy it. Each contestant did the usual thing, walking around on visual display, performing some artistic thing and so forth. It was interesting enough to see the different species and what each considered to be an impressive skill or whatever, but he soon found himself bored. Galactic culture wasn't new to him, not anymore, but it hadn't yet really grabbed hold of him, and he wasn't all that sure that it ever would.

As the show dragged on, Avery's boredom continued.

Stepping out into the lobby in search of something to do while he waited, he stood considering a display of tourist memorabilia as his mind wandered. He was still undecided when a pair of Spidermonkeys – he didn't know what else to call them, eight skinny limbs, a little furry, prehensile tails – sauntered by, acting for all the world as if they owned the place.

“Good haul this time, some real beauties. Just wait 'til they find out what those collars can do if they don't play nice!”

This caught his attention. The contestants were all wearing collars or anatomically equivalent trinkets, sparkly little things that declared the usual irrelevant contestant data and served only to draw the audience's attention to... well, to whatever qualified as their species' “assets.”

“And you see them Cat-girls? Oh, I got me some plans for _them_ , let me tell you! I don't care we sell a few off and trot the rest around 'til the next batch, but those two...”

As the pair continued on their way, Avery stepped out of the shop and followed them casually.

They turned in at a door not ten feet later, giving him a look and a shrug as they did.

They stopped a moment after that as he barged in behind them.

“You shouldn't have done that,” said the one who had been talking before. So saying, it attempted to shove him backward.

This only made him look down at the Spidermonkey's fingers on his belly.

“You shouldn't have done that,” he mimicked.

Picking up the Spidermonkey, he hurled it into its partner, the two tumbling several feet farther down the hallway.

He stalked toward them, fully intent on doing them severe damage before asking them any questions, but the other Spidermonkey spoke up as he approached.

“You want us to take you to the boss? He can set it all straight. Whatever you want, no problem. You want in on the job? You got it! These babes are in it for life, so there's plenty to go around for everyone.”

Hauling the two of them up, he contemplated this.

He was sorely tempted, but if he kicked the shit out of them right now, then they might not be able to answer any questions later.

“Shut up and keep moving.”

They followed the hallway a little farther, and two turns later stopped in front of a door.

“This is it. The boss,” said the second.

Nodding his thanks and patting them on the shoulders, he smashed their heads together.

Turning from their bodies without checking for life signs, he kicked in the door. The dogs waited for him to walk in, sitting to either side of him once he stopped.

“The collars. Start talking.”

The boss was a Landshark, a steely gray skin in an ill-fitting suit. He'd never been around one, just seen a couple before, but that didn't matter in the face of his current mood.

The Landshark sat back a little, looking around the table at his partners.

“You believe the testes on this guy? He walks in big as an Orcadian and starts shooting off his mouth?” he lifted his head slightly to the skinny things in the corner. Maybe they were eels, maybe snakes. Avery didn't care either way.

Then they shot him.

He was stunned, not expecting this off-Earth, but he found himself laughing almost uncontrollably; their guns were tasers, but carried all of the sting of a nine volt battery, and they'd managed to hit a few nerves. Tearing the wires away, he smiled.

“Sic 'em.”

Yeller leaped into action at this, with Jinx right behind.

Their barks and growls were immediately joined by screams and shouts as the gangsters discovered the pointier parts of his pack.

One of them was unfazed. Standing almost seven feet tall, it resembled a dugong, which extended to its resilient skin that the dogs couldn't chew into. It turned to Avery as they concentrated on the others, keeping them at bay, harrying them into a corner, in fact.

It was large.

He didn't recognize the species, but that just meant that it would come down to trial and error.

And luck.

Hurling himself at it and grabbing a chair in passing, he began pummeling it. In moments, the fight was over. It lay before him, cowering, its limbs contorted unnaturally.

_This is their muscle?_

He relaxed, setting the chair down.

Then he heard a chuckle as something hit him in the face.

A cloud burst before him just as he inhaled.

 _Peppermint?_ he thought in confusion.

The chuckling died down.

The cowering figure sat there, gaping, as he continued to breathe.

It was still fumbling for more poison capsules as he brought the chair down on its head one last time, before turning his attention to the rest of the gang.

It took some time to explain all of the details to the promenade security team, who had some difficulty believing that a single being, even if assisted by a pair of wild animals, had rendered the entire gang hospital-ridden, and caused all of the destruction to the premises in the fracas, but the upshot in the end was their thanks and unspoken caution in taking Avery's statement and letting him go politely.

He was still shaking with adrenaline when Billie and the others took him home.

Once back on the ship, it then took even more time explaining himself to Billie while trying to downplay things in front of áõŋː and raʔûR. For their parts, Billie's look promised him a talking to in private, while áõŋː settled for licking his cheek affectionately. raʔûR simply stared at him, no less intimidating in her furless state, if anything, more so in fact. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, she nodded sharply, her eyes closing briefly.

He hadn't been around the Cat-girls long enough to be sure, but he reasoned that if their body language were indeed close enough to pass for cats', then this was her way of showing grudging respect and thanks for his efforts on their behalf.

He decided not to make a big deal of it as she and Billie set to getting dinner together while áõŋː sat beside him, purring.

Out of nowhere, áõŋː cocked her head and swiveled her ears fully forward, saying “You never told us – how was your _sex_ time? With all of the excitement over now, you can tell us _all_ about it!”

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1** Whack-a-prey: These automata are given an unordered list of behavior protocols: {seek sheltering objects, absorb energy before reaching low levels, exchange resource data, cooperate or act alone or use others as decoys, avoid detection, jink}. Other such commands are introduced at random, and the 'bots are left to devise their own best practices. For further reading, look into Cellular Automata (esp. Mirek Wojtowicz's [MCell](http://www.mirekw.com/ca/index.html)), Spatialized Iterated Prisoner's Dilemma, Busy Beavers, and Langton Ants (esp. George Maydwell's [SARCASim2 and ARCALCA4](https://web.archive.org/web/20080524211204/http://www.bayarea.net/~maydwell/htdoc/ca/)) to start with.
> 
> **2** Frognewton: An amphibious species somewhat like the Madame Vastra version of Dr. Who's Silurians, though somewhat smoother and distinctly less draconic. Frognewtons display an unusual combination of characteristics: homeostasis, two-foot frog tongues, oviparity after physical intercourse, born “protomitotic” (neither protandrous nor protogynous, capable of asexual reproduction if necessary), mature to sequential hermaphroditism (determined subconsciously by current environmental stimuli and potential partners [not m/f mating potential per se]).
> 
> **3** Starfish: A naturally long-lived species, they long ago engineered themselves into four sexes in order to maintain relatively stable population sizes over time. Two come together to form ova while two others come together to form spermatozoa, proceeding in much the usual manner from there.
> 
> **4** Plasma: Sadly for Avery, there were simply too many variables here. Stars could come in a wide range of atmospheric density and temperature (even rather chilly), surface gravity, and so forth, and there were technologies to permit beings to live well outside of their environments, modify their environmental needs, create environmental bubbles far in advance of spacesuits, modify stars well above or below any remotely natural conditions, or even create wholly unnatural astronomical features.


	4. Is he good to you?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's amore. In this chapter, Captain Stabby the [ _ ~~Space Roomba~~_ ] Skutter attacks, and there's some relationship talk between Billie and raʔûR with a huge surprise (there's even a hortaform pet rock that makes an appearance).

“You've changed, you know,” raʔûR commented as she leaned back in the comm-nav seat, flipping through holos **1** , “Parent-you would never have considered the things you've done.”

Billie considered this and shrugged, “That's how it always is with bud-cloning,” ze replied.

raʔûR flexed her hand, bringing out several claws.

Billie ignored this and continued with zer meal – or rather, zer second servings. Avery had really outdone himself with this one; orange chicken in sesame oil with chiles and mushrooms, mei fun, and curried rice, plus coffee frogurt with chunks of pineapple waiting for zer afterward.

“The last time I saw _zer-you_ , _ze-you_ would have been petrified at the slightest hint of my claws. Now, I'm pretty sure _you-you'd_ actually go toe to toe with me.”

“I've grown since _zer-then_. Experiences do that.”

“You're omnivoring. You're even happily consuming caustics and poisons!”

“They _taste_ good! Besides, there are more textures and diverse nutrient sources available this way.”

Ze held out a bite of chicken, but raʔûR twitched her head back after a single sniff, now snorting sharply and energetically with one ear flicking.

“You don't need to defend yourself on this, Billie, I'm just saying that it's there and it's obvious. You've picked up a lot of his habits is all. You've pack-bonded with him and are becoming _domesticated_. So I'm asking: _is he good to you_ \- is he good **_for_** you?”

Before ze could answer, raʔûR began cursing and rubbing her foot.

Captain Stabby had struck again, or more accurately Captain _Stubby_ , since he could do no more than stub one's toes.

A few days ago, something had glitched in Bob the Skutter's positronic brain. He'd donned a domino mask across the main mass of his manipulator arm and begun ramming into people's feet at full speed – that being all of perhaps four miles per hour. When asked about it while not wearing his mask, he denied any knowledge of such actions, maintaining that it must be some rogue agent... even as his mask dangled out of his improperly shut maintenance panel.

The first few times that he'd done this, he'd rammed with his manipulator forward in an attempt to hole his targets, but the spring action simply pushed the arm back gently until he made body contact himself. This had given the victims a moment's warning. Avery had thought that it was cute and wanted to give him some training lessons and a pocket knife, but Billie had drawn the line at this.

Since then however, his depredations had branched out. Caltrops had been left strewn across the halls, made of feathers to tickle the unwary foot (nobody knew where he'd gotten those); “ _Boo!_ ” notes were stuck in random places, apparently in hope of inducing heart failure; he'd even reprogrammed the food-o-mat to dispense 1% larger portions to bedevil hungry people. So far, his guerrilla tactics fell a bit short of the mark.

Also so far, áõŋː was the only one safe from these rampages.

Billie smiled and shook zer head as Captain Stabby scooted out of the room, waving his manipulator appendage with two finger-units held high behind.

“That's why my feet are on the console, raʔûR.”

A moment later, a small guided-dart stuck itself to the side of raʔûR's face with an active AI suction cup.

“That's new,” ze added.

raʔûR continued flipping through holos, stopping sometimes at those that seemed fun, with Billie focused on finishing dinner and watching raʔûR's views.

Avery's hortaform pet rock lent calm background hues to the room as its surface glowed and scintillated with pretty and ever-changing deep-sea bioluminescent patterns. He had set up its terrarium with a variety of minerals and gems, trying to make a “dessert” planet for it, as he put it.

“So, how about your xeno studies?” raʔûR continued after a little while.

Billie was in the middle of the curry, nodding as ze finished zer mouthful.

“I'm beginning to get some idea of how Avery thinks, seeing how he interacts with the rest of the galaxy. And Earth's been... _interesting_. Do you know that that deathworld has its own _miniature-deathworld continent_?”

raʔûR gaped at this.

Billie nodded vigorously as ze went on, “The whole planet is covered in deadly life forms, deadly natural conditions, and machines of death that they manufacture for _fun_ ,” here ze glanced meaningfully at Captain Stabby's dart, “and a couple of continents that they consider dangerous, and there's this _one_ that even those continents call completely lethal – and everyone _laughs_ about it!”

“Your treatise and metadata dump should make your career, from the sound of it,” raʔûR replied, her tail twitching in agitation at the thought of such concentrated death and contrarianism.

“Oh, I know...” Billie said, “But what about áõŋː? She's a catch, and not like most of the girls you've dated before, either.”

raʔûR's tail-twitch turned slower, thumping at the tip a little.

“I think I'm going to keep her,” she said at last.

It was now Billie's turn to gape.

“ _Keep_ her?” ze asked quietly, looking around hurriedly before shooting a rapid series of questions, “Does she know? Have you asked? When did you know? _How_ did you know?”

raʔûR bunched up, a little uncomfortable at this.

“She's just nice. I don't know. She... she completes me. And no, I haven't exactly told her yet...”

Billie just smiled, then went to the food-o-mat.

“Cream-and-'nip?” ze asked, “This deserves some celebration.”

“You don't have to make a big thing out of it!” raʔûR dodged, though she was also glad that Billie was happy for them.

Billie only arched zer brow and got their drinks.

“I tossed in some fermented fish juice, to give it some kick,” ze said as ze handed a glass to raʔûR.

raʔûR nodded, her upper lip already pulled back to sniff in anticipation.

“Have you picked a hair bow **2**?”

They were halfway through their third glasses when Avery walked back in. Billie was feeling warm and the world was soft and fuzzy-edged around zer after having dosed zer own drinks liberally with cherry liqueur.

“A'ight y'all, áõŋː's done knocked out and I put a few tribbles in with her, and they're all cuddled up and purring and cooing like there ain't no tomorrow, so try to keep the rambunction down a little.”

raʔûR cocked her head for a moment, then budged over in her seat to make room for him.

Leaning toward Billie unsteadily, she caught zer eye.

“What I asked you earlier? I think the answer's ' _yes_ ',” she said, her tail flicking Avery's knee idly.

Billie smiled warmly, glad to have raʔûR's seal of approval.

**O ~~~ O**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **1** Holo catalog: raʔûR's browsing through the catalog for anything interesting to Cat-girls. This is made easy by the system being tagged by millions, likely billions, of travelers. Primary weight [in this case] is given to reviews by Cat-girls on site, secondary to Cat-girls not on site or to those on site with known insight into Cat-girls, and so forth. Not precisely a tourist pamphlet, nor an encyclopedia, the system is giving her anything that she might like – vernal forest moons, ice tunnel asteroids, technological playscapes, relativistic interstellar rivers. There are even some hunting grounds, though she's kept those minimized for Billie.
> 
> **2** Hair bow: I can't speak for raʔûR without writing out the scene to be certain, but for the curious: I suspect that it will be a deep crimson with just enough scarlet sheen at the edges to catch the eye, while yet barely muted enough to remain tasteful - and to permit a few discreet puffed QGP “diamonds” to stand out nicely in the foci.


End file.
